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Protests, Pre-Residency, and a Lion Costume

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I just finished my final two weeks of pre-residency at PGH, or the Philippine General Hospital. Along with my 8 batchmates in residency, we spent the past two weeks figuring out the work commute, preparing and giving lectures to each other, shadowing the more senior residents, seeing patients at the Outpatient Department (OPD) and Emergency Room (ER), and of course, practicing for the first years' Christmas party dance.  Yep, that’s me. You're probably wondering how I got here. Well it all started when…   1. Storm between calms The day immediately before  returning to PGH was November 30, the day of the Baha sa Luneta 2.0 protests. We had a 3,000-strong contingent, and more people would have showed up if not for the police. Having learned from their mistakes during the September 21 rally, the police showed up in full force. They messed up the program and caused immense delays. Still, the program pushed on. There was singing, dancing, and a few speeches. At around 10 AM, ...
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Changing Lanes

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After working in public health for most of my professional life - first as a Doctor to the Barrio, then in the DOH Central Office, then as a researcher - I've decided it's time to enter residency. Scrubs these days are expensive AF. Did not buy. For the uninitiated, residency is that special time in every specialist doctor's life where you work and train in a hospital for 3 to 5 years to become a specialist in something - in my case, Psychiatry. For the initiated, this is 3 to 5 years of being an overworked, underpaid zombie.  My friends and family know I've agonized about this decision for a long time now. I already applied to a Psychiatry program last year, but decided not to push through to stay in the DOH. Last December I decided to quit DOH anyway and take what eventually became a "slow year."  I was lucky enough to be offered a few research and consulting gigs, and to some extent, I was able to do things on my own terms. For the first time ever I was 100...
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Confessions from the Kids’ Table: My first convention

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  I attended my first Public Health Convention (PHCON) yesterday, and it was wild.  I mean, there weren't any keg stands or fellows in cheeky shorts dancing to Gnarly . But it did open my mind to the possibilities of what a public health doctor can achieve in 2025, and those possibilities are wild.  Public health doctors have been fighting for legitimacy and recognition in a world dominated by traditional medical specialties. To many people, being accepted into a specialty society counts as the highest achievement you can possibly get as a doctor. You can only join a "society" once you've proven yourself worthy as a physician - having undergone 3 or 4 extra years of residency training after passing the medical boards, perhaps 2 to 3 years of further subspecialist training, and passing rigorous oral and written exams, before you can finally call yourself a specialist.  And although the word specialist itself connotes that you are indeed quite unique or  special,...
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Stupid little pills. (Treatment post #4)

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We went to the doctor today for a follow-up. (Yes, doctors need doctors too.) His name is Dr. Jaffy, and this was only our second visit to him. I was supposed to see him five months ago, but I stubbornly put it off until things got worse. (Doctors also make the worst patients.) "Worse" is what my hands look like today. As soon as I sat down in the clinic chair, Doc Jaffy took my knobby, red hands and gently tapped on the joints as he counted. "Looks like all your PIPs are inflamed."  Proximal Inter-Phalangeal joint. PIP. Such a cute word but whenever my doctors bring it up, the context is never cute. "Where else?" he asked. I said, my knuckles, elbows, knees, and toes, and then felt kinda stupid for reciting them to him in this order like a kid. He put his finger to his masked chin and thought for a while. " Mag- biologics na nga tayo ," he said. Biologics are a class of drugs meant to suppress my immune system and keep it from attacking my own ...
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Bread and Coffee

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It is 10:42 AM, the morning of my 32nd birthday. Rap made me breakfast of toasted bread, sausages, and coffee, waking me up from a bizarre dream (we were vacationing in some rural town in Korea, riding a dingy rollercoaster that had a rectangular track, and our dog Nawa was on it too). As I sip my coffee and nibble on the toast lovingly prepared by him, I check social media and reply to greetings. To my surprise, our ninong Luke has greeted me too, but of course in the form of a backhanded compliment.  Still, what a nice gesture. I reflect how it is 10 AM on a Monday morning, and I'm having a slow start to my day at home. I can't help but compare it to my 30th birthday, which I had spent in an office, feeling sad.  On that morning, I'd rushed out the condo at 6 AM to get to the office by 7, so I could leave the office by 4, so I could make it to a dinner with my college friends. I was sad because I wanted more than anything to just go home.  Office life is weird...
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We quit our jobs and traveled to Japan!

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Like I mentioned in my last post, I got married!!! However, because of this stupid capitalist system that prioritizes worker productivity over well-being, we didn't have enough leaves saved up to go on a long enough vacation. So, we did something kinda crazy... And quit both our jobs at the same time.  I know, I know, it's such a stupid decision to both quit at the same time. But really, if we hadn't done it, when would we ever   have had the time to just go travel and enjoy our lives?! I had already consumed all my vacation leaves by going on my wedding and then our hometown reception, and Rap's work as an infirmary doctor did not allow him to take more than a couple days off at a time.  So, we quit. And, using some of the money we got as gifts from our wedding, we were able to spend 12 amazing days in Japan. Here's what we did. Day 0 Flight to Tokyo Check-in at Shibuya Do side quests Dinner with Tita Baby and Tito Mak Our Tokyo trip was off to a bumpy takeoff whe...
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